Pipe down!
by Non-canon Doyle
Summary: During one of his official visits to the UK, Russia has his pipe stolen. He blames England, and ends up introduced to Sherlock Holmes, England's only hope to reconcile their relationship and solve the case. Of course, Ivan wouldn't mind humiliating him for the fun of it while England's pet detective is trying his best. He's only one human after all… Surely his infamous Russian(...)


**PIPE DOWN!**

**SUMMARY: During one of his official visits to the UK, Russia has his pipe stolen. He blames England, and ends up introduced to Sherlock Holmes, England's only hope to reconcile their relationship and solve the case. Of course, Ivan wouldn't mind humiliating him for the fun of it while England's pet detective is trying his best. He's only one human after all… Surely his infamous Russian intelligentsia is better than one English citizen? Let the game begin.**

**Chapter 1: Intelligentsia versus Britannia**

'Ah, these brainless test subjects of yours, John- when will you finally stop this nonsense of meeting people for pleasure?'

'When I'll finally have consented to the fact that you, or us working together scares away any potential date I might have… What's wrong with trying not to die alone anyway?' John added, as an afterthought.

Holmes dismissed this with an impatient wave of hand.

'Oh come on! You won't die alone. We share a flat, remember?'

'…'

'Ookay. What are you suggesting I try then?' John finally asked, in his slightly mocking tone.

Holmes looked at him as if he'd asked something incredibly obvious. Which, to his mind, he probably did.

'Behave like a grown man and help me solve this puzzle, of course!'

_**~ ßßß ~**_

Ivan was absolutely and positively outraged. He hadn't had a decent meal for weeks. Englishmen always opened their political meetings with a ten-minute long stupid weather talk to further embarrass each other. London's stray dogs followed him at night, checking up on him. And now, on top of that, the impossible had just happened.

It seemed like somebody has taken his pipe hostage.

Now, it was obvious that the first thing he had to do was blame England. After all, it was his country, his stupid food, his tasteless politicians, and his damned thief. The thief couldn't have possibly been Russian, thus, it was England's fault, end of story.

The second thing he had to do was beat the crap out of him. While this proved to be a good enough morning exercise, it was looking to be a rather ineffective method of actually finding his pipe. That's why he set all his secret agents in Britain onto the precious task (no, not _spies_ as dear America liked to call them – they were information _stylists_), but that's where the rest of the problem came into focus. He didn't need his men to report to Putin that all they'd been working on recently with full force was the obtainment of a long, slightly rusty 20th century water pipe and its safe delivery to its rightful owner. No. That would just have been wrong.

However. This whole thing involved tasks which could have been done without wasting the time of his precious children. Tasks that could be done by anybody, even the English.

When not in his hotel room, aimlessly throwing knives at various parts of the furniture in blind rage, he mentally noted, rather wisely in his opinion, that when in Rome, use the Roman secret agency.

In sum, he needed England's help.

_**~ ßßß ~**_

'…and that's where we are now.' Watson finished citing the case. 'A rather interesting development, I think.'

Holmes' eyes told him he thought differently. Plus his hand that had thrown the case file into the garbage.

'I can't believe Mycroft wants me to find a piece of water pipe this time. This is a new low, even for him.'

Watson tried his best to stay positive. 'Well, maybe he just wants you to relax a bit before you get yourself killed in a case again. Probably not good for one's health.'

'Don't be ridiculous, John. One can only pull that off once. I need to think of a new ruse when I want to get lost next time.'

'So… How about working undercover and having an accident at a plumber's shop then? You could try to find that water pipe too.' John proposed, smirking.

'Much too difficult a job for me. I would have to struggle on a daily basis not to kill all those idiots in the store.' Holmes seemed to reflect on this. 'On a completely unrelated note, we might get a murder case with similar circumstances any time. I can't believe no one has tried it yet.'

_**~ ßßß ~**_

Ivan sat on the chair offered to him in his hosts' absence, his booted legs cheerfully dangling to and fro. Suddenly an idea occurred to him and he immediately stood, ready to explore the interesting decoration in the apartment. He read the printed letter lying on the desk (boring), examined the bullet traces imprinted into the front wall (slightly less boring), then proceeded to put his Englishmen theories to test and checked the kitchen for tea pots and terribly overbaked cookies. He let out a surprised whistle upon opening the fridge and discovering a human head in there, his impatience turning into cheerful anticipation and a slight hope, _hope_, that this day won't turn out to be boring after all. When he heard the door cracking, he turned, and happily noted that his host arrived earlier than expected.

'I would ask you to make yourself at home but I see you already have.' He heard a man shouting towards the kitchen. 'John, we have a visitor.'

'Welcome home, hmm!' Their intruder said in a singsongish voice as he came into view from behind the refrigerator. Ivan figured it would be rather nice to have tea while they were at it, so he appeared with the tea he prepared along with a tray of cups and resumed his seat in front of Holmes' desk, placing everything next to the computer.

'You remind me of an American, da. Not too much tea in the kitchen, and enough coffee to kill a bear. Rather interesting choices for an Englishman, mm?' He took a sip as Holmes took the chair facing him and gave him a holmesian glare.

'6 feet 2 to 5 inches tall, easy to recognise accent, expensive manicure, pale complexion, a flat and thus pricy enough smartphone to fit into your pocket without being noticed, and you were given my address without further inquisition. You're a high rank diplomat who was either born in Russia or have spent considerable time there, but judging by your position dealing with classified government issues the first one is much more likely. And Mrs Hudson didn't stay with you for a chat after showing you in to offer you the compulsory tea-biscuits combo nonsense, you scared her, why?' Holmes rattled on without as much as breathing.

'Why, it is much more fun to have your flat all to myself to explore, is it not?' Ivan smiled cheerfully. 'Besides, English ladies are much too ugly and boring to stay with in the same place for a long time, of course!'

Watson shook his head incredulously, and took the seat closer to the stranger. Normally, he would choose this chair to check for any signs of distress on Sherlock's visitors from a convenient distance and intervene with a well-timed offer of brandy when necessary. Now, he chose it to watch for any indication of psychosis on their foreign client's part, and it looked like he was off for a good start.

'How can I help you?' Holmes asked, maintaining his calm.

'I do not think you can, but you might as well give it your best shot, da? I've heard you to be the best in England and figured you would do, until my backup arrives from Moscow.'

Holmes' left eye twitched.

'So I want you to make an effort to try and find a missing item.' Ivan added.

'Missing item?' He gave Ivan one more thoughtful look. 'Don't tell me. Your left hand's fingers are twitching in a way that tells me you're not used to them being free for a longer amount of time, so it's a small object you can carry around everywhere on you. It belongs in your left hand, but you're right-handed, so it can't be a very refined object… not a cane, you're not limping and seem too confident to use a walking stick for show, not refined enough to use one for simply walking… always holding to your phone would look stupid, carrying around an umbrella constantly is of no use in Russia, considering the weather… What is it?'

Russia blinked innocently. 'What is what?'

'There is something you have lost you'd been carrying around in your left hand for at least five years now. What is it?' Holmes inquired impatiently.

'It must be of personal value since you didn't replace it with a new one immediately, and you don't have any financial troubles. And now you're here because you want _me_ to find it. What makes it so special?'

'It enabled me to survive a war, it is my best friend.' Ivan seemed to consider this for a moment. 'Indeed it is, and it's also an aesthetically very pleasing pipe I must add.'

'You don't smoke… oh yes, that ridiculous water pipe case… I reject the offer.'

'Oh, but I did not offer you anything yet, Mr Holmes!' Russia cried out excitedly.

'Doesn't matter, I refuse. You can't offer me anything to get me interested. And now, if you excuse me, my time is valuable…'

'But I don't plan to!' The Russian stated cheerfully.

'What?' Holmes stared at him.

'I don't plan to offer you anything.' Ivan enlightened him. 'As a matter of fact, I will continue not to provide you with any incentives to take my case. I am merely interested in your abilities. I am offering you my problem with the knowledge that my agents will solve it before you. But I am offering it anyway, just for the sake of fun.'

Watson made a small, throaty noise as he had taken in the look that started to materialise on Sherlock's face. Oh, the fun was already starting.

'You see, I have nothing to lose here', Ivan went on, 'Either you or my men will find it sooner or later, and you cannot put a price on pride now can you? And it will make me very proud when my Russian agents prove the famous consulting detective of the United Kingdom inferior, who, oh my, is even equipped with his own website! Does it help your work along that everybody knows who you are may I ask? It is rather silly to tell, is it not?'

Holmes narrowed his eyes at him.

'You just want to trick me into wanting to prove myself. Fine, I say I'm still the best but don't give a damn about your pipe, you say it's an issue of national pride, I say I don't care about England, you say that it's between the best and brightest of Russia and me then… and then I take the case because I don't have anything else going on right now and I'm so _bored_, but please don't flatter yourself. This doesn't make your manipulation techniques any less primitive.'

Russia blinked innocently. 'You do tend to rattle on a lot, Mr Holmes. You are more tiresome than an IELTS listening comprehension task da. I have been warned about you.'

Something told Watson it was not a one-time thing with this man to feel an urgent need to facepalm. Judging by Sherlock's facial expression, this time they have arrived at the exact same conclusion.


End file.
